Through The Eyes Of The Guilty
by eddy-roddenberg
Summary: Completed: Spider-man's origin through the eyes of Uncle Ben's murderer based on both movie and comic book origins please R
1. Introduction: A Story About Frank

Through The Eyes Of The Guilty.

Note: Spider-man and the main Characters associated are owned by Marvel Comics.

My name was Frank Johnson. I used to live in New York City, one of the greatest cities in the world. I used to have wonderful wife, Sharon, the 3 loving children, Alan, Deborah, and Kenny. I used to have great job at the university. My life had many demons. I had made several mistakes in my life. That's probably why I'm here now. Why don't I start at the beginning.

I started out as an assistant to Dr. Curt Connors at the University back in 1995. Dr. Connors was working on DNA experiments. You know what I mean, Subtracting DNA from one species and ejecting into another. It was supposed benefit humanity: give sight to the blind, sound to the deaf. It could restore lost limbs, and even cure incurable deceases. I made enough to support my family. 

My problems all started during my trip to Las Vegas. I made a killing during a fight at the MGM Grand, so I figured why not? Sharon took the kids to see some magic act. No one would know. I tried my luck at blackjack and did okay. It was when I played poker that I kept having trouble with. I kept being dealt low cards and ended up losing all my winnings, and then some. I ended up in so much debt, Sharon would've been furious. I was tempted to go jump into the Grand Canyon. It was about that time when a large, bald, heavy-set man walked away from the High Rollers Table.

"I couldn't help but hear about your situation, sir," he said. "I might just be able to help you out."

"Thanks, but no thanks," I said. "I don't take charity."

"Now who said anything about charity. I was simply referring to an employment opportunity."

"Thanks, but I already have a job. No offense Mr. . ."

"Fisk, Wilson Fisk." With that he handed me his card. Wilson Fisk, one of the richest men in New York just handed me a job offer. It just didn't feel right; however, he just might be able to help me get back on my feet. "Just think about my offer. To help you think more clearly, here's 500 dollars."

"I'll think about it," I said as I took the money. It was very generous of him. I have always been taught that generosity never goes over-looked. I was going to take him up on his offer when he started to walk away. 

"Give me a call when your ready," he said. "You shouldn't rush into these things you know." Then, with a smile, he turned and walked away. I decided to call him when we got home. I never told Sharon about that meeting. She would have called for a divorce if she found out, or so I thought. I did a good job hiding any details about the conversation. I never showed anyone the card. On my next day at work, I gave Mr. Fisk a call.

"Hello?"

"Mr. Fisk? This is Frank Johnson. We met at the MGM Grand last week."

"Ah, yes. Johnson, how was your flight?"

"Good," I said, "thank you. I'm calling about your business offer."

"Ah, yes," he said. I could hear him grinning. "Have you made your decision?"

"I have," I said. "I've decided to take you up on your offer."


	2. The Meeting and the Lab

Through The Eyes Of The Guilty.

Note: Spider-man and the main Characters associated are owned by Marvel Comics.

It was the following Sunday that I met with Mr. Fisk. He had me go to this fancy restaurant, near Broadway. I had to come alone. When was to arrive, I was to say that I had a meeting with Mr. Fisk. I guess he owns the place, or something. I was shown to the back by the head waiter, there I met Mr. Fisk, along with his associates; one of them I recognized, I just did not know where. They all wore pin-striped, Italian business suits. Mr. Fisk, who wore the white suit, introduced his associates, there were five. 

"Allow me to introduce," Fisk started, "Charley Blake: head of my eating establishments; Tony Jackson: he oversees my theatres; Iwo Kagimoto: this one oversees my foreign investments; and finally my Vice President in operations: Robert Jones."

"Who's the man with the flat head?" I asked. This one seemed to catch my attention, though I don't know why.

"He is to be your supervisor," said Mr. Jackson. Mr. Jackson was a tall, slim man. His gray hair was thinning, his grey eyes fixed on me. He had a scar that he said was from a cookout mishap. He wore a grey suit with navy stripes. "He will make sure you do your job, and that nothing goes wrong."

"I don't understand," I said. "What do you mean when you say 'do my job'?" I wasn't sure I liked the idea of this.

"You work at the University, do you not?" asked Mr. Blake. Blake, like Fisk, was heavy set. He wore a pair of spectacles, and had a full head of Brown hair which he slicked back, like a character from the movie Grease. He wore a blue suit with black stripes. "I'm sure you know of many things worth of great value: lab equipment, research notes, experimental serums." 

"Are you suggesting I steal from the University?" I asked in an outrage. I could not believe what they were asking of me. "I could lose my job, my family, everything that I hold dear to me. I can't do it."

"Who said you would do the deed?" asked Mr. Kagimoto. Kagimoto, from what I understood, was from Japan. He ran Fisk's technology companies and supervised the shipments around the world. He was young, I would guess about 35 years old. He wore a Navy blue suit with grey stripes and dragon tattooed on his neck. "What we need is an inside man. One who can get us the information, and get us inside."

"And if I refuse?" I asked. "I really don't feel good about risking my career."

"Well, Mr. Johnson, I'm afraid you have no choice," said Fisk. "You remember the money I gave you in Las Vegas? Because of that, I own you. If you refuse, it will be the end of you, your wife, and your children." Fisk gave an smile that made my blood chilled. 

"In short you don't work with us, you die," said the man with the flat head. I finally remembered where I saw him. I saw his picture in the Daily Bugle last month. He is the infamous gangster, Hammerhead.

I was to start the next day. I showed up at the lab as usual. Dr. Connors was at his desk preparing for his demonstration later that day. I was more worried about what I had to do. Dr. Connors was working on a isotope radiation machine. This device was to harness the radioactive gamma power for medical uses. Hammerhead gave me a camera to take pictures, so I took a picture of the machine. I then notice a spider web in the corner of the testing area. Not wanting any mishaps, I reached for the broom when Dr. Connors came over.

"What are doing?" he asked. 

"Oh, um, I was taking care of the spider web in the corner," I said. "You know, you can't be too cautious when dealing with any radioactive equipment."

"Never mind that. I need help setting up the lab for the high school science clubs coming in this afternoon. Come, give me a hand with this." We started with setting up the chairs. I was still uneasy with the spider web. Apparently, Dr. Connors failed to see the spider in the room.

Right before we set up the machines, Dr. Connors stepped out for a meeting. "Now to finish what I started," I said to myself. With a brush of my broom, I swept away the web, but I missed the spider. The arachnid crawled into a crack in the wall to protect itself from the deadly bristles of my broom. Aster I convinced myself that the spider wouldn't come out of the wall, I found my camera. Now was the perfect time to photograph the research notes. When I finished with that, I hid the camera in my lab coat pocket, and went back to work finishing setting up. 

Half an hour later, Dr. Connors came in with high school students. There were 200 kids from 4 or 5 different high schools. Dr. Connors introduced himself, then introduced me, then finally the project. I noticed the spider crawling out while the doctor explained the advantages of DNA research and the benefits of radiology. 

"Is it true that you can rejuvenate DNA with radioactive isotopes?" asked one of the high school students.

"I'm glad you asked that question," Dr Connors replied. "We are unsure of the capabilities of isotopes and DNA, however, it is of my opinion that it is possible. Now if you will please pay attention to the testing area, we will begin the demonstration. Will please flip the switch Mr. Johnson?" I flipped the power switch to ON and a beam shot out of the machine, as if it were a ray gun. Everything was going well, that is until the spider lowered itself towards the beam. "That's enough Johnson, you can turn the beam off. I would like to thank you all for coming to the demonstration this afternoon. If you have anymore questions, don't be afraid to ask me, or my assistant. We would be happy to answer any questions." 

The spider, after being hit with the beam crawled back onto the ceiling. I went to follow it, hoping to kill it before it could do some very dangerous harm. It crawled towards one of the students talking to Dr. Connors. I grabbed my broom but, it was too late.

"Ouch!" cried one of the students. He was about 17 or 18 years old. He was 5'8" and had brown hair. He grabbed his hand in pain. 

"Are you okay Peter?" asked Curt.

"I'm, I'm fine," said Peter. He definantely did not look fine. He was disoriented and sweating. I could see the spider bite on his hand he was holding. The spider crawled towards me. With one swift motion I squashed the radioactive spider. "I just need some fresh air," Peter said as he stumbled towards the door. I wanted to follow Peter to check on him, but Dr. Connors told me not to worry about it.

I met with Hammerhead and his men that night. I thought I wouldn't be able to, Sharon was asking too many questions. If I didn't make it to Hammerhead in time, we would all be dead: Sharon, the kids, and myself. I was doing this for them. I met Hammerhead in the old waterfront warehouse, in the shipping district. 

"Do you have the pictures?" he asked me.

"Right here," I said as I handed him the newly developed pictures. "I guess you have no need for me, so I'll be going."

"Hold it right there," said the gangster as he grabbed my shoulder. "I can't let you go that easily. We still need you to get us in the lab; plus you might go to the cops and rat us out. Nobody rats me out and stay unharmed. Nobody rats out the Kingpin and lives."

"Kingpin?" I asked. I heard rumors but no one really know very much about the Kingpin, only that he is the most dangerous man in the New York underground. "Who is the Kingpin."

"That's for me to know, these thugs here," he said referring to his men, "don't even know who the Kingpin is. However, I like you. Tonight goes off smoothly, I might let you in on the secret."  


Half an hour later, we broke into the lab. I showed him where the notes were, and where the isotope ray machine was being held. The machine was in a vault that only Dr. Connors had the combination to. Hammerhead's thugs already took the doctor's notes. Hammerhead was about to smash the vault door with his adamantium lined skull when I tried to stop him.

"Wait, stop," I said, but it was too late. The alarm was tripped just as Hammerhead touched his head to the door. "You fool, you tripped the alarm," I chastised. "The police are on their way. They will find out I was with you and I'll lose my job. And all because you had to rush in." I knew I shouldn't have said those things. I just was so nervous. What would happen to my family if I was caught. Would they abandon me, or worse: would they be murdered. I heard the Kingpin doesn't just kill you, but he kills your whole family as well.

"Well, then. We will just have to skip to that last part. Won't we?" he said. Then Hammerhead and I knocked heads, and everything went black.


	3. Truths and Consequences

Through The Eyes Of The Guilty.

Note: Spider-man and the main Characters associated are owned by Marvel Comics.

When I came to, the laboratory was filled with cops, as well as Dr. Connors, and half a dozen lab students. Apparently I've been out for at least four hours. The safe door has been broken, the isotope ray machine was stolen. It seemed that Hammerhead didn't waste any time breaking the door, despite the alarms. Either he was that good at what he did, or that crazy. The students where already talking about what happened last night.

"I heard he was fighting at least half a dozen thieves," said one of the students.

"You have got to stop reading those adventure stories," said another student. My roommate said that she saw hi sneak in with four thugs and that Hammerhead guy late last night." And I thought we snuck in unnoticed. Here I thought they were professionals.

The next thing I knew, I was being taken away for questioning. As I was being hauled away, I noticed the camera. Security has it all on tape. Very sloppy, I thought, very sloppy. 

On the ride to the police station, I thought I saw a man (I thought it was a man) jump from building top to building top. At first, I thought that was the Daredevil, it seemed to make sense. I mean if the Kingpin is real, then so would the Daredevil. Then I heard someone shouted. It wasn't an angry shout, but a shout of joy. Almost like someone accomplishing some great act for the first time. I did notice that it came above me, like from a third story apartment.

When we arrived at the police station, we headed straight to the interrogation room. They knew I had something to do with the previous night's robbery. I was terrified. Not because I might go to jail, but what might happen to my family. I was afraid to say anything. I just wish I never met Wilson Fisk. 

"Okay Mr. Johnson," said Detective O'Malley. How stereotypical I thought. Despite what I was going through, I couldn't help but smile at the irony of the situation. "What's so funny?" she asked.

"Nothing," I said as the smile went from my face.

"Now as I was saying, tell us what you know about last night."

"I. . I. . I don't know what you are talking about," I said. I was shaking heavily, my nerves were on end.

"We would have check the security tapes," said Detective Robinowitz, "but they seemed to have disappeared." Robinowitz was tall man about in his forties, and by the sound of his name, Jewish. O'Malley was short a short woman, I would have to say five foot even, she was about the age of thirty-five. Seeing a wedding ring on her finger, I would have to say at least her husband was Irish descent. I was definitely in the wrong business. "We were hoping you could tell us what happened."

"I still don't know," I said. "I was working late, and I was knock out." At that time I was looking around nervously. 

"Can you describe your assailant?" asked O'Malley?

"No, I was attacked from behind."

"We have witnessed that identified you walking into the lab with five other men," Robinowitz suggested.

"I'm telling you, I was working late." At that time, someone knocked on the door. Two police officers came in saying that I was to be transferred to another precinct for questioning concerning a murder occurring last month.

"I never killed anyone," I protested.

"You have been linked to the Peterson murder, witnesses have pointed you out," said one of the officers.

I was released to the officers from the Bronx Precinct. It was in the car that I got a good look at the two officers: they were two of the thugs from last night.

"He kept silent, Charley," said one of the officers. "Pay up."

"What's going on?" I asked?

"Hammerhead sent us to get you," said Charley. "If you talked, we were to kill you. However, if you kept silent, we were to break you out. Tommy and I had a bet to see if you were going to talk, I just lost $50 because of you."

"After we got hold of the security tapes, we were sent to keep an eye on you," said Tommy. Tommy was tall and thin, while Charley was short and fat. The both wore goatees. "Apparently you did something right. Hammerhead wanted to leave you, but word on the street is 'you have it in with the Kingpin'. So Hammerhead sent us. Where can we drop you off?" 

"Right here is fine," I replied. I didn't want the mafia knowing where I lived. Charley and Tommy dropped me off near the Garden. There I hailed a taxi cab and went home.

When I arrived, Sharon was sitting down watching the news. She had a look of shock on her face. They were covering the robbery last night and listing me as the lead suspect. They just announced that I escaped from the police. When Sharon looked up at me, she had a look of shock, fear, and anger on her face. 

"Is it true?" she demanded.

"Yes," I said. "I suppose you want an explanation."

"That would be nice."

So I told her all about it. I told her about Las Vegas and my first meeting with Mr. Wilson Fisk. I told her about my business meeting with Fisk and his associates. I told her about Hammerhead and the Laboratory. I even told her about the breakout attempt, which I had nothing to do about by the way. When I told her my motives, she started crying. 

"Why didn't you say anything to me?" she asked between sobs. "We could've worked through this."

"I didn't want you to worry."

"It's too late for that."

"I know."

"What are you going to do?" Sharon asked

"There's only one thing I can do," I reassured her. "Tomorrow, I will tell Mr. Fisk I want out.

We hugged and embraced. Five minutes later the phone rang. 

"Hello?" I answered.

"Hi, Frank, this is Dr Conner." A lump formed in my throat, I knew what was coming next. "Just calling to let you know, because of last nights activities, we are forced to let you go. We appreciate the work you have done for the University. You can pick up your final check when you return your name and access cards. What I don't understand is why you did what you did."

"It's too complicated to explain right now."

The following morning, I hunted down Mr. Fisk. He was eating lunch at a little bistro on Wall Street. I walked up to his table, and told him I quit.

"Excuse me?" he asked.

"You heard me. I was arrested, which scared my wife half to death. I lost my job at the University. I nearly got shot, I have a headache a mile wide. I want out."

"I'm sorry to hear that," Fisk said. "You have promise. I guess I have no choice but to let you go."

"So no hard feelings?" I asked.

"No hard feelings. In fact I'll let you walk out alive. I suggest you run, you might live longer."

"What do you mean 'let me walk out alive'? I thought you said no hard feelings."

"I did mean no hard feelings. But you are a loose end. You can't survive with loose ends, it's bad for business. I have no need for you and you know too much, you are a loose end. The Kingpin always cuts his loose ends," he said with an evil smile.


	4. On the Run

Through The Eyes Of The Guilty.

Note: Spider-man and the main Characters associated are owned by Marvel Comics.

I did not want to go home after my death sentence. For all I know, Sharon and the kids are dead. Fisk allowed me to leave, but as soon as I left the building, I found out the hard way: what the Kingpin says is the law, and there is nothing anyone can do. As I stepped out into the open, I heard a gunshot. Everyone panicked. The shot came from the car parked at the curb right in front of the building. The shot almost got me. Fortunately, the gunman wasn't a good shot. I looked at the car. It was Blake, he apparently lost his glasses. He was squinting. I jumped the steps leading down to the sidewalk. I ran toward Times Square. I figured I could get lost in the crowd and give the Kingpin's goons a challenge to find me.

As I ran, thoughts filled my mind. At first, I was concerned about my family. According to the reputation of the Kingpin, it was only a matter of time till they get killed. Then my thoughts focused on what Fisk said: "The Kingpin always cuts his loose ends." Wilson Fisk is the Kingpin, who would have known. It slowly made sense. Him picking me out when I was desperate, the meeting with his associates including Hammerhead, my job at the lab and the convenience of the robbery, the set up and my fall. It all added up. Why didn't I see it earlier?

I ran straight to the bank to get my check cashed I picked up earlier. I didn't drive to the bank in fear that a bomb was attached underneath. When I picked my check up earlier at the University, it was very quick; no conversation, no good bye. I guess, they thought I was to blame for the robbery, well, they were right. Now I'm running into the bank doors, looking over my shoulders. For a minute, I thought I saw Mr. Kagimoto, only he was smaller and in street clothes, he also was wearing glasses. If it wasn't for the fact that he kept watching me, I would have mistaken him for a local or a tourist, but I came to the conclusion, that he wasn't Kagimoto. I got my cash and decided the best thing to do is to go buy some new clothes and get a hair cut. 

I ran into Macy's and bought myself an army green hooded sweatshirt, and a pair of khaki cargo pants. I also bought a new pair of Nikes, that left me with enough to get a haircut and to go into hiding. I still had the feeling I was being watched. This time it was a woman. She was short like the man at the bank, only she was American. She wore a suit that made her look like she worked there. When she thought I wasn't looking, I saw her speaking on a cell phone. Now that I think of it, the man in the bank had the same phone model. I changed my clothes in the restroom and walked out of the store. I flipped up my hood and head toward across the street towards a barbershop. 

As I walked, I noticed Hammerhead. No doubt about it, he was here to kill me. I started to run just I was noticed. He started to chase me, keeping his gun concealed to avoid unwanted attention. When I cut through an alley was when he drew his gun. He gave out a few shots as I turned through a corner. At this point my adrenalin was pumping so hard, all I could think about was survival. I finally made it to a barbershop and I ran in. I picked up a magazine and tried to blend into the crowd when Hammerhead passed the building. I alluded the Kingpin again, but I knew my luck wouldn't hold up forever; I needed to change my look.

I hopped into a vacant barber chair, waiting for my haircut. I decided shave my beard and my head. It would have worked, if it wasn't for the fact that I was still being watched. This time by the huge guy next to me. He was negro, tall, big, tough looking, like was a club bouncer or something. He wore a sleeve less shirt which exposed his many tattoos, one of which was a black dragon with bright red eyes.

"What are you looking at, punk?" he demanded once he saw me look at his tattoos. "You got a problem?"

"Uh, n n n no," I stuttered. I then left, I would have stayed if I didn't feel intimidated. I went to a pay phone at Central Park, I figured it was a public place, and I would be safe. When I arrived I took out some change and called home. I had to tell Sharon to take the kids and go far away, for their own safety. I just hoped I was just in time. I put the change in the phone and dialed home. 

"Hello?" asked a man's voice. 

"Who is this?" I asked.

"This is the Johnson residence," said the man. "Lieutenant Smith speaking."

"Is Sharon there?" I asked, hoping she called for protection.

"I'm sorry, but she was shot, along with her children." 

"Shot? But how?"

"We got a call thirty minutes ago. Witnesses identified the murderer to be an thin old man, in his 60's, thinning hair and a scar on his left cheek. They said that he was wearing a cable company uniform. He entered the premises, four shots fired out, and he left."

"Any idea who was behind this?" I asked, knowing the answer already. 

"We believe it was Frank Johnson who arranged for the murder, trying to cover any leads to his whereabouts. Of course this is one theory."

I thanked the officer and hung up. I was a suspect? I can't get over that thought. Kingpin's played this game too well. I have no hope to survive. It was either be killed, or rot in jail. I was getting ready to leave, when suddenly the pay phone rang. 

"Hello?" I answered.

"They think you killed them, don't they?" asked a strange voice.

"Excuse me?"

"The police, they thought you killed your own family. I can help you escape the Kingpin." I started to look around, trying to see who I was talking to. "Don't bother looking around. I can guarantee you can't find me. Walk to the other end of the park. There you will see a black car. Tap on the front passenger window three times. Do it in the next five minutes. Don't worry about unanswered questions, I promise you, they will be answered."

"Who are you?" I asked.

"The car in five minutes."

I followed those instructions to the T. When I tapped the car window the third time, the back seat door opened.

"Get in," said the voice. I got in to discover the voice was coming from one Iwo Kagimoto. There were three other people there; surprisingly enough, they were all from today: the tourist from the bank, the woman from Macy's, and the bouncer from the barber shop. They were all out to get me. I started to get out of the car when Iwo told me to sit down.

"What's going on?" I asked. 

"See that man right there, in the sweats, on the bench?" asked the tourist. He was in the driver seat. "That is the Cobra, but you know him as Robert Jones: Wilson Fisk's second. He was about to kill you." I looked out of the window to see Mr. Jones, in a trench coat, holding something that looked like a gun in his left pocket. He looked agitated, like he has missed his chance, and as far as I know, he did miss his chance to kill me. I looked at Kagimoto. 

"I save your life," Iwo said. "Now you owe me."

"How do I owe you?" I asked.

"How naive," laughed the saleswoman. She was sitting on the other side of Iwo.

"Now, now Barb," said Mr. Kagimoto, "let's show our accomplice some respect."

I didn't like how he used the work "accomplice". "because I saved your life, you owe your life to me. Kind of like that movie, The Shadow. Everyone in this car owes me their lives, including you."

"So what," I asked. "Am I going to steal for you? Is that it? Well what if I refused."

"Then we drop you off and leave you to fend for yourself," said the bouncer, who started to drive away.

"I'll testify, and enter into the Witness Protection Program." 

Iwo just laughed. "What makes you think they would believe you? They think you're a suspect, remember? Besides, if they do believe you, and that's a big if, by the way, they can't protect you. If I can find you, then so can the Kingpin, and he has easier ways of finding you. Your best bet is to work with us."

"So, what do I do?" I asked as a broken man.

"We go to a wrestling match tonight," said Kagimoto.


	5. All Will End With Tears

Through The Eyes Of The Guilty.

Note: Spider-man and the main Characters associated are owned by Marvel Comics.

The plan was simple. We all had a part to play out in the wrestling ring. Iwo was sitting in the audience, placing and taking bets; the saleswoman was with me, in order to make a distraction for me to sneak backstage; the bouncer was a wrestler taking part in a contest: "$3000 for 3 minutes"; I was to steal the profits for the events; and the tourist was the get a way. I was given a gun with two clips full of bullets. Things was going smoothly. The bouncer, or Mr. Indestructible as he was known as that evening (yeah, I knew that was a stupid name myself), was up next. I was to head backstage after the match to offer my support, or congratulate him on his victory. The sale woman was to flirt with the guards if I had trouble getting back there. Iwo was controlling the whole operation, while the tourist was waiting for a call from Iwo.

Mr. Indestructible entered into the ring to face the champion, Crusher Hogan. Things gotten out to start smoothly: they both started out in a grapple, then Indestructible put Hogan into a body slam. The match turned when Hogan did a reversal supplex, then it was all down hill from there. Hogan applied his patented Back Breaker Submission Hold, and it was all over. Time: 1 minute 22 seconds. We started to the backstage locker room to put my part in the plan into play. At first I had trouble getting backstage, but with the thanks of the saleswoman I was able sneak in. All that time, I could hear the crowds going nuts over the present match in the challenge. Crusher Hogan was facing off against some punk that went by the name of Spider-Man. Apparently, Hogan was tearing this kid to pieces. 

I made my way through the locker room just to find that the bouncer wasn't in there. I found him with a physician who was checking his back, making sure that it wasn't broken. Just at that time, the bell rung. The match was over. Hogan won, or so I thought.

"Ladies and gentlemen, I give you your new champion," said the ring announcer over the intercom. "The champ: Spider-Man!" The crowd sounded like they were eating this up. I was in shock. I caught a glimpse of this guy and he was a scrawny kid, compared Hogan. How did he manage to win the match. I heard someone say that it took only 1 minute and 15 seconds. I was told to follow this Spider-Man character to the office and was given the bouncer's gym back to put the money in.

I did just that. I followed the "champ" by a few feet as he went to the office. I waited outside as he entered to speak to the manager. I listened to the entire conversation.

"Here you go, Champ," said the owner. "One hundred dollars. Now get out of my office."

"But the deal was $3000," argued Spider-Man. 

"It is. However: The deal was 3000 for 3 minutes, you pinned him under 2, besides you're just a kid. I'll sign you on after you graduate from high school, but that's the best I can do."

"I really need the money now."

"I really don't care. That's your problem, not mine."

I entered into the office just as Spider-Man was leaving. I caught a glimpse of him without his mask. My eyes must have been playing tricks because he looked like that Parker kid from the lab, only without his glasses. I shook of the coincidence and tossed the gym bag onto the desk.

"What's this?" asked the owner.

"Fill it," I demanded.

"What makes you think I'll do that?" he asked when I drew my gun and aimed it at his head. I was to get the money no matter the cost. I pulled the hammer back. "Oh, well since you put it that way."

"Hurry up!" I shouted. As soon as he finished I took my gun, and I hit him off side his head. I ran out of the office, down the hall towards the elevator. I saw Spider-Man there. I thought surely that I would be caught, but no, Spider-Man let me go. I mean he just let me by. I entered into the elevator, and told Spider-Man thanks. I made my way to the parking lot where the get away car was waiting. Iwo rolled down his window.

"Do you have the cash?" asked Iwo. I tossed him the gym bag which he opened. He looked very pleased. "Thank you, Mr. Johnson. Now I suggest you run."

"What? You mean to tell me, your going to kill me? After all I did for you?"

"No, I need a fall guy, and that's you. Don't worry, I'll break you out. But now, you run." At that time, the cops came in. I started to run but not until I shouted "Thanks for nothing".

I cut through an alley towards the public library. There I saw an old man and a car. I needed that car. A approached the car.

"Can I help you?" asked the old man.

"I need this car," I told him.

"Well, I need to pick up my nephew." At that moment, I pulled my gun.

"I don't think you understand me, I need this car." I pulled back the hammer.

"Wait a minute," the old man said. "I know you. You that Frank Johnson character who shot his family. I need to find a phone." He took off running, but I couldn't allow him to ratting me out to the cops. I didn't know what I was doing, my finger was acting on it's own. There was a loud blast coming from my gun, and the old man fell. I ran to him, he was breathing very shallow. I took the keys and ran to the car. 

I drove towards Canada. I needed to leave the country. I was headed north for a it seems like an hour when I saw sirens behind me. They found me. I became even more desperate. I started to pick up speed when I heard a thud on the roof of the car. I saw a red hand. I shot a couple bullets towards the ceiling to try to shake him off. I was now driving at dangerous speeds now. It was that time when this guy landed the hood. It happened so fast. He shattered the windshield and I steered into a gate blocking an old abandoned warehouse.

I ran inside where I changed clips. I heard a window break behind me. I turned around and shot towards the ceiling. I heard someone land behind me. I turned around and he punched me in the stomach. I fell backwards and dropped me gun. This guy looked just like Spider-Man. I grabbed my pocket knife and slashed towards him when he kicked the knife out of my hands. 

"Don't hurt me," I pleaded. "Give me a chance."

"What about my uncle, Ben Parker?" He asked as he pulled off his mask. "Did you give him a chance." He grabbed me by the shirt and held me against a window. I got a good look at his face. No it couldn't be. The coincidence was too great be true. But it was true. Peter Parker, the kid that had the accident in the University lab, was Spider-Man. He had a look of horror on his face when he let me down. 

I grabbed my gun and backed up. All that time, I chuckled and said "See ya". I tripped over something and took a long fall towards the ground. I saw my life flashed before my eyes. I knew it was over. Kingpin won. I was dead. My name was Frank Johnson. I used to live. Not any more.


End file.
